


The Hunt for Great Things

by sareyen



Series: Tales from Thedas [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abuse, Dalish Elves, Demonic Possession, Demons, Drama & Romance, Gay, Gay Sex, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Magisterium (Dragon Age), Magisters, Pride Demons (Dragon Age), Punishment, Romance, Slavery, Tevinter Imperium, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 07:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17545406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sareyen/pseuds/sareyen
Summary: Asharel Lavellan had always wanted to be a hero, but he could never be one. He always looked up to Gael Lavellan, the Herald of Andraste, as someone he would aspire to be but never quite become. Where Gael was gifted at magic and equally as talented with a bow, Asharel was good at... Cooking? Cleaning? Sewing? Asharel was no warrior, no hero, no saviour. No, it was Gael that had always been the one that was destined for great things.But when he is kidnapped by bandits and taken to the Tevinter Imperium as an elven slave, Asharel may soon come to find that he, too, may be destined for great things.~Little But Not Less Spin-Off~





	The Hunt for Great Things

"You," Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan spoke, her voice soft and a gentle smile on her usually stern features. Her pale finger stroked the ash-white hair that framed the boy's rounded cheeks, his eyes aglow as his magic swirled in the air around him. His magic flared, and pure white snow poured down around the two of them, blanketing the Keeper's cloaked shoulders as she tenderly pet the boy's hair. "You are destined to do great things."

Asharel Lavellan could only watch from afar as his Keeper murmured these powerful words. He looked down at his hands; skinny, pale fingers roughened with callouses. Callouses not born from laborious swordsmanship practice or the daily tugging of bowstrings. They were callouses born from doing the clan's laundry, from cooking their hearty meals, from sewing their frayed tunics. They were not the hands of a warrior, nor those of a hero. They were the hands of plain, old, Asharel of the Aravels. The young elf looked up again, light brown eyes downcast.

"Gael," the Keeper said, the name making the trees sway and the streams part. "You will do great things."

The white-haired elf grinned and nodded, his back straighter and his green eyes growing stronger. This was the elf Asharel looked up to. The elf he wanted to be.

But he was not Gael. And because of it, he was not destined for great things.

Or so he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for clicking onto this story!
> 
> I've just made this story and published the prologue just to give you a little taste of what is to come! I'm still in the process of planning and writing this story, so I won't update it until I have a decent amount of chapters compiled, as to give you regular updates but also give me time to stay ahead of the releases and write up the chapters :) So, keep tuned and the next chapter will be up when it's ready!
> 
> Thanks again!


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